DeKayed
by Misora-Massacre
Summary: When Misaki Yata is chased down and jumped by another gang, only one person could come to his rescue. (another bad summary ')


_Hurts..._

Yata gripped his arm as he ran, bleeding profusely. The gun shots sounded again, seeming close. Yata cursed under his breath and quickly laid his skateboard underneath him. At this point, it was his best source of transportation, not that he didn't use it often.

Using his good leg to help increase speed, Yata glided through the streets, jerkily making his way around people. This was good; at this rate it wouldn't be long until he lost his pursuers. Yata scanned the area and knew that he was halfway to Homura. Everything would be fine once he got there, and once someone fixed him up he would be able to kick Kamamoto's ass for suggesting they split up. Their chances of winning would have been much higher than what they were now.

Before he could make it any further, the gun shot again and Yata felt a sudden pain in his side. The skateboard slipped from under his feet and he fell to the ground, letting out a scream. God, how that fucking _hurt_. Tears started to well up in his eyes, but he stubbornly blinked them away. Their king wouldn't have cried in a petty situation like this.

Yata heard his attackers' footsteps come close mockingly. One of them snickered and said something to his comrades, something Yata could barely hear. Another laughed and stomped his foot on Yata's head, asking him yell out and grit his teeth. If only he had enough energy to use his power, these guys would've been long dead.

As the person stepping on his head added more pressure, he was increasingly losing more and more blood. As the others joined in, kicking his stomach and places he had already been shot, pushing the bullets deeper in, Yata felt himself slowly slipping into unconsciousness. _No…_ he thought. _I can't…not…not like this…humiliation…_

The last thing Yata remembered before blacking out was the sound of a sword being unsheathed.

"Oh Mi~sa~ki~"

Yata jolted awake upon hearing the voice. The first thing he did was notice where he was. Apparently he was in someone's living room, laying on their couch. Both his t-shirt and tank top had been removed, leaving him bare chested minus the fresh bandages. Then, he noticed a man sitting on the opposite side of him. He wasn't wearing his usual apparel, just simple gray sweatpants and a black long sleeve shirt. There was an ever-present look of smugness on his face. That face…how perfectly Yata's fist would fit into it…

"Fushimi…" he growled, glaring at the other.

Fushimi smirked and rested his cheek in his hand. "My, look at you. It's been ages since I've seen you this vulnerable~ We were still in school, weren't we, Mi~sa~ki~?"

"Go to hell, damn monkey!" Yata yelled, wincing slightly from his wounds. "You sent those assholes after us, didn't you?! It's all your fault!"

Adjusting his glasses, Fushimi pouted. "Such a cruel assumption, don't you think~? It I didn't happen to pass by you'd be as good as dead. And there isn't even a ihint/i of gratitude in your features! Tsk. Typical." He let out dramatic sigh.

His explanation only baffled Yata more, and it showed, judging by Fushimi's chuckle. Yata growled and ran a hand through his hair, discovering that his beanie was removed as well. "The hell, did you take advantage of me while I was knocked out or something?"

"I dunno. Do you taste something weird in your mouth?"

"No, not really, why…Oh, _hell_ no! You did not make me—!"

Fushimi threw his head back and laughed. "God, you're the same naïve little idiot you were back then, aren't you~?" he said with a grin, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.

Yata felt his face grow red and scoffed, looking away. "Whatever," he muttered, propping himself against his elbows. "Why am I even here? I get that you saved me and everything, but…" Yata's frown deepened. "Actually…a better question would be why the hell did you save me in the first place?"

The smile on Fushimi's face faltered slightly, but he still remained cocky. "Well, because now you practically owe me a life debt~"

"I don't owe you shit."

"Noooo~?" Fushimi asked, sitting on the arm of the couch, next to Yata. The red head scooted away, only to have the other scoot closer. He gave him a look of irritation. "Go. Away."

"Or what~?"

A red flame appeared out of the palm of Yata's hand. "I'll make you."

Fushimi smirked and held out his hand in between them, a blue flame kindling. "Will you, now?" he asked, his eyes just begging for a challenge. "You're hardly in any condition to fight."

Yata knew had a point but didn't dare show it. He forced himself off the couch and onto his feet. "I'm leaving. And if you have some crazy ass Blues stationed outside ready to jump me…"

"_Relax_, I'm the only Blue here and I'm off duty," Fushimi smiled, getting up as well. Yata tried not to stare up at him, slightly jealous of how short he was compared to him.

"Oh yeah? How do I know you're not lying?" he asked.

"Would I ever lie to you, Mi~sa~ki~?"

Yata hatefully narrowed his eyes up at him. "I don't know, I always thought that that's what traitors tend to do," he spat. He thought he saw Fushimi tense slightly.

"Still pissed about that, huh?"

"_Pissed?!_" Yata yelled, fists suddenly ablaze. "I'm fucking furious! I trust you with my life! We protected each other! Ever since we were young and going to school together, we had each other's backs! And then you had to be a power hungry jackass and leave us for those damned Blues!" He flung his flames at Fushimi, which he easily blocked with his own.

"Ah, such a bitter tone," Fushimi sighed, pushing his glasses place once more. "Maybe Misaki is just jealous because I'm so much more powerful?"

"Fuck you!" Yata screamed, slamming him into the wall. "I don't give a shit about the power! We were in this together, and you fucking left!"

The look on Fushimi's face become somber. "Together, eh?" he muttered. "Which is why you'd always ditch me for the others…Especially that bastard, Suoh…right?"

"Don't take about Mikoto-san like that!" Yata yelled, grabbing Fushimi by the shirt collar in rage. "He actually took care of us! Stop being an ungrateful little—"

Yata was about to finish when he suddenly coughed into his hand. Fushimi's eyes widened slightly, placing his hands on Yata's shoulders to steady him. "Misaki…?" he said hesitantly.

"G-Get your dirty hands off me…!" Yata said, wincing. The wounds…He could tell that some were reopening. It hadn't been a long time since he'd received them.

"You're hurt…"

"S-So the fuck what?!" Yata said, his legs wobbling. Unable to stand the pain, he fell to the ground with Fushimi quickly grabbing him and holding his close.

"Tsk…You're always getting into so much trouble," Fushimi remarked quietly, blowing some hair out of his face. "It's quite irritable, you know…" He was quiet, and that's when he heard the sniffling. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at Yata. "Misaki…Are you…crying…?"

"W-What?! No! I-I just…You smell bad, that's all! Freakin' disgusting…" Yata said defensively, though he voice still shook.

"It's just cherry blossom," Fushimi said with a shrug, then sighed and gently lifted up Yata's chin. "Why are you crying? I thought you Reds were too strong for that?"

Yata sniffled and looked away, refusing to look the other in the eye. "I-It just hurts…" he said quietly.

Fushimi nodded in agreement and opened his mouth to reply when Yata suddenly gripped the back of his shirt and sobbed into him, much to his surprise. A faint blush made its way to his face. "M-Misaki…?"

"I-Idiot…Such a god damn idiot…" Yata said in between sobs. "You had a chance to come back to us, but you didn't…Why the hell not…Damn it, can't you see I miss you?! S-Stop being so fucking selfish! Damn you, Saruhiko…."

The power in those words, the weakness Yata displayed, it all rendered Fushimi speechless. He frowned slightly. "You don't mean that."

"And how the hell would you know what I mean and don't?!" Yata snapped, causing him to flinch again.

"They'd never accept me back."

"I'll make them!" Yata sobbed. Fushimi smiled sadly. He also thought it was cute how simple minded he could be.

"Yata…I belong with Sector 4 now. I've made that decision long ago, remember?"

"H-Huh…?" Yata said, wiping his tears away. "You wouldn't even…Not for an old friend…?"

"Not for anyone," Fushimi said, feeling guilty even as he said it. Yata looked up at him, not believing what he was hearing, then pushed himself away from him Fushimi and got up, searching for the rest of his clothes and skateboard. Once he found them, he headed towards the door.

"Yata?"

Yata stared ahead, then sighed and turned around, glaring at Fushimi. "What?" he was about to ask, when he felt Fushimi's lips on his. He blushed darkly and stumbled back. "W-What the hell…?"

Fushimi nervously scratched the back of his head. "I…I'm sorry…" he said quietly. "I'm done with Homura, that's a given fact, but…Yata…You…I've missed you too and…" he tried desperately to find the right words that described how he felt.

"And…?"

"And…Damn it, I love you, Misaki!" Fushimi said, ignoring how embarrassed he felt. "It's only ever been you, ever since we met! It sounds cheesy as hell, but whatever! I'd do whatever I could to be with you back then, but I just thought that you didn't want me anymore! I wanted to be stronger…I-I'm sorry…"

Yata stared at him, not knowing what to believe or not. He sighed. "You _should_ be fuckin' sorry…Stupid Saru…" he said, pouting and looking down. There wasn't any hatred heard in those words this time.

"Heh…" Fushimi smiled slightly and placed a hand on Yata's head. "What's this, you feel the same way, Mi~sa~ki~?" Yata blushed, and that seemed enough of an answer for Fushimi. He smiled and pulled him into a soft embrace, which Yata lamely attempted to escape before giving up to both how weak he felt and how warm the hug was.

"Stupid Monkey…" he muttered.

"A monkey that you apparently love~"

"S-Shut up, bastard!"

Fushimi smiled and shook his head. "Don't think I will~ Now c'mon, let's get you to rest, kay?"


End file.
